The Drabbles of a Multishipper
by Cardiac Arrest
Summary: Just some little drabbles that come along as I see fit. Some romance, some not. Some canon, some not. Anything can happen. Rated T for safety, though it could change.
1. TonySteve

"Tony? I'm over here."

"Hm?" Snapping out of his haze, the man of iron blinked at his assistant-turned-girlfriend before realizing where his thoughts had been. "Sorry Pep. Long day," he offered as explanation.

Pepper rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, arms folded over her chest and legs crossed tightly. "It's always a long day for you, Tony; you never sleep. And your head's still on that helicarrier, admit it."

He raised a hand to his forehead and sighed, "I'm sorry, Pep-"

"He's not on that helicarrier, though," Pepper interrupted. "You know that."

Tony gritted his teeth. He had known that one was coming. "I know."

"So go. You can fly. We're only a two minute trip away."

"Pepper-"

"Anthony Edward Stark, you put that suit on and get out of here." Expression softening, Pepper smiled and added, "And tell him I said hi."

—

The suit folded itself off him easily, packing itself away, neatly, in the form of a briefcase. Tony crossed the dimly-lit room and found himself burying his hands in sweat-soaked blond hair.

"My girlfriend broke up with me, I've been kicked out of my own tower, and I was told to tell you hi."

Baby blue eyes smiled down at him and rough, soldier's hands came to rest on his hips. Frowning as though gripped by inner turmoil, Captain Steve Rogers searched his visitor's dark brown eyes. Then the corners of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

He lowered his head, touching his forehead to Tony's, and replied simply, "Hi," before softly pressing his lips against those of his companion.


	2. FrostIron

**A/N:** I guess I can start labeling these by pairing, just so people can skip over pairings they don't like. Though I wish they wouldn't. I really enjoy reading and writing everything. .

Anyway, here's another drabble. AU, obviously. And this one, as seen in the chapter title, is FrostIron. Have fun with that.

* * *

"The famous Tony Stark doing the walk of shame," Natasha announced with a flourish, seeing the man of iron walking groggily from the elevator into the common area. She was alone, presumably up early to catch the TV before Thor got up and insisted on watching sports all day. Tony grimaced.

"It's not a walk of shame if there was no sex involved," he grumbled.

The assassin's eyebrows shot up. "You stayed the night without boning him? I'm impressed, Stark. I thought you fed off of sex."

"Hah! Yeah, see, it may take a lot, but some of us can control ourselves," Tony replied. He obviously had had nothing to drink that morning and was rather irritable as a result. "Besides, maybe the god of lies has changed me."

A grin was playing at the corners of Natasha's mouth. Clearly, she wasn't buying any of the exchange. "I don't believe it, Stark."

"You shouldn't," he laughed. "I'm lying through my teeth. He was fantastic, in case you were wondering."

The spider let out a chuckle, "No, I wasn't wondering. Where is he, anyway? Surely you didn't leave him? You're living under the same roof, now."

"Nah, he's in the shower. Said he'd be down soon," Stark explained. Grabbing a glass from a cabinet behind his bar, he poured himself a glass of…Something. It was either regular orange juice, or some of the juice Clint had spiked with vodka the night before. He wasn't sure.

"You were talking about me?" a rather cheerful Asgardian asked from the elevator. Compared to Tony's t-shirt and sweatpants, Loki looked very put together. He wore a simple green linen shirt and black jeans, but it was still more than Stark wore. He smiled, uncharacteristically cheerful.

Natasha couldn't hold back a snort. "You're glowing, Loki."

He fixed wide, green eyes on her and tilted his head. "Am I?"

"Don't pay any attention to her. She's just jealous because Barton couldn't pick up on a hint to save all our lives," Tony said, not without humor. He grinned at the assassin, only to receive a very rude gesture in return.

The elevator chimed again, opening to reveal Bruce Banner and Thor. Seeing the three standing there, Loki basking in his own glow, Bruce rolled his eyes and grinned.

"And why aren't you two married yet?" he laughed.

"You're talking to the two most famous playboys in the galaxy, Dr. Banner," Natasha reminded him.

"Aye, neither of them would marry. Even if their lives depended on it," Thor agreed, an unreadable expression crossing his usually happy face.

"Why do you all have to bring that up?" Tony asked, feigning astonishment.

"Because after four nights together, an Asgardian father would demand you marry his daughter," Loki supplied. "Actually, after just one if you weren't already married."

"Four? It's only been four?" Tony genuinely was surprised then. He ran a hand through his messy hair. "We have some work to do, then."

"You really lost count already?" Bruce asked.

"I lose count after once. They generally don't come back after once," Tony explained. He put down his glass and rubbed at his eyes. "It's too early for this."

And with that, he left, the elevator sliding shut behind him. Loki took up a leather armchair, a rather large, leather-bound book appearing in his hands already turned to his page. Natasha looked up from the couch, while Bruce and Thor looked on with interest.

"You aren't going with him, brother?" Thor ventured to ask.

"Hm? No," Loki replied with a small smile. "He needs to sleep."


	3. The Great Game

**A/N: **This is just a fun story involving the group, no real pairing involved. My friends and I were playing ping-pong the other night and it gave me the idea to write this. Hope you guys like it!

* * *

Leaning over to Steve with concern, Pepper whispered, "Whose idea was this, again?"

Screwing his eyes shut and furrowing his brow, Steve paused for a moment before replying, "Loki or Tony. Though I think it may have been both!" He leaned away quickly, dodging a ping pong ball that had been lobbed at his face by a roaring Hulk.

Wide-eyed, Pepper nodded. "I'll kill them both."

Two hours previous, the Avengers, Pepper, and Loki had been casually sitting around in the lounge area of Stark Tower, talking about sports across the realms.

"The only sports I've ever been good at are soccer and ping pong," Bruce had remarked offhandedly.

"Love ping pong!" Clint had exclaimed, excitement bubbling from him.

"What is ping pong?" Loki had puzzled, dark brows knitting together.

"You have a table, with a net, two paddles, and a ball," Tony had explained. "And you hit the ball back and forth over the net, trying to hit it off the table. After it bounces on the other side."

Loki nodded, seemingly satisfied. Then Thor had stood up, grinning. "This game sounds most amusing! May we try it, man of iron?"  
With a bemused smirk, Tony had nodded. "I think I can get a few tables together."

And he had. Within an hour, there were three ping pong tables lined up in the center of the great room.

Both having played before, and both having impossibly quick reflexes, Barton and Romanoff had paired off and immediately began going at it. Tony and Bruce divided the Asgardian brothers: Tony taking Loki to the table farthest from the assassins, and Bruce taking Thor to the middle table. Pepper and Steve decided to sit the round out, opting instead to be the referees to the new players.

Things had started out just fine. Despite their fast pace, the hawk and spider managed to keep their ball in constant play. Enthusiastic as always, Thor kept missing the "after it bounces on the other side" bit, but Bruce was a patient teacher. Tony and Loki had found a slow but steady pace that even allowed for casual conversation and light banter about the subtler aspects of bioluminescence in jellyfish. (There was a species of bird on Asgard, Loki had explained, that glowed in a much similar fashion. However, after dissecting many naturally deceased specimens, he had yet to ascertain the exact cause of the phenomenon. Tony was all too happy to explain, having just read up on the subject the night before. Out of curiosity, of course.)

Steve and Pepper had actually thought that things would go well.

Then Barton missed.

Spectacularly.

The ball sailed past him, narrowly missing his left ear, then ricocheted off the far wall to come back and slam the unsuspecting Dr. Banner in the back of the head. Natasha had winced, clapping a hand over her mouth, and groaned, "Sorry, Bruce..."

Taking a deep breath, Bruce had replied through gritted teeth, "It's okay, Natasha."

Then Thor had accidentally hit their ball too hard, and it had hit Bruce in the right shoulder. Again, Bruce had gritted his teeth, taken a deep breath, and continued on.

"Maybe I should have taken Thor at the middle table," Tony had mused, swatting his ball back at Loki.

The chaos god had chuckled and returned the ball effortlessly. "Perhaps you should ask Dr. Banner to trade."

"That's all right, guys," Bruce had said, through gritted teeth. "I'm fine."

Pepper had stared at the scene nervously, running a hand through her long hair. "I need a drink," she'd muttered, loud enough for Steve to hear.

He'd nodded, thinking for once that a drink might be exactly what he needed.

Pepper chuckled, "Stay here and watch after the kids. I'll get us all daiquiris."

She'd disappeared into the elevator, presumably to head down a floor where Tony kept the liquor. That left Steve watching the chaos unfold.

Bruce was hit again. And again. And again. Barton was slowing down. Natasha tried to slow it down when she saw, but it was no use. And when Clint missed, the rebound hit Bruce.

"Maybe you and Thor should switch sides," Tony had suggested amiably. But Bruce wouldn't do it.

The only good news was that Thor had finally gotten the hang of it.

Just as Clint missed again, Pepper returned, tray laden with drinks. The ball ricocheted off of the back wall, and instead of hitting Bruce again, pinged off of one of the glasses on the tray. Everyone stopped and looked at Pepper.

"Break time!" she announced.

As she handed out the drinks (sorting by the amount of alcohol they contained. Natasha and Tony got the most, Natasha being Russian and Tony an alcoholic. Sort of.), Steve had watched the scene with a great deal of interest. Bruce had seemed tense, defeated even. Thor was overly enthusiastic, boisterous as ever. Clint and Natasha were polar opposites: Clint loudly proclaimed to anyone who would listen that he was going to make a come back, Natasha only rolled her eyes, enjoying the light tickle she felt at the back of her head from her drink. Pepper really knew how to make them. Tony and Loki still chatted animatedly, even trying to include Bruce in a discussion about fourth-generation nuclear reactors (he didn't participate, much to their dismay).

They sat around on leather sofas for a while, talking about changing partners and tables. In the end, they returned to the same tables with the same partners. Tony did, however, convince Bruce to switch sides with Thor so that Clint's missed balls wouldn't keep hitting him. It had been a good idea at first. And Tony had meant well.

But Bruce kept getting hit. And kept getting hit. And was hit some more, for good measure. He never said anything, though. He was a generally good sport about it. Until Thor became the last straw.

The demigod had been explaining the finer points of a game he'd played with Fandral, Hogun, and Sif when he got a bit overly excited and shot the tiny ball at Bruce's cheek. Seeing his mistake immediately and unable to do anything about it, Thor instead called, "I apologize, my friend."

No sooner than the words left his lips, Bruce let out a cry of rage, Muscled rippled under his then-green skin and, suddenly, he was an eight-foot-tall, roaring, rage monster. The Hulk picked up the paddle and the ball and smashed the ball into Thor's left eye.

The Asgardian let out his own howl of rage and took Mjolnir from his belt. He took the ball and hit it back with as much force as he could pass through the hammer. Hulk deflected the plastic projectile, sending it flying toward Pepper and Steve, before picking up the table and attempting to break it over Thor's head. The demigod swung Mjolnir in a wide arc, effectively cleaving the table in two before it could land.

Natasha and Clint had fled to the rafters at Bruce's first howl. They watched from a safe distance as the two let off steam. Tony and Loki, however, had stayed. The two only fled to the sofa when the table was cleaved in two, after the piece nearest them had threatened to flatten Stark, and Loki transported them there.

The Hulk's rage disn't last long. He burned through it hot and fast, like a young star. Then, when Bruce had finally returned to them and after Thor had hauled him to his room, Tony assessed the damage.

"Nothing too serious," he announced grandly.

And there wasn't. Aside from the middle table being nearly completely smashed to bits, there was only cosmetic damage to the room. Two of the three ping pong balls were lodged in the wall nearest the elevator ("I'll have them encased in gold and put in the wall as permanent fixtures!" Tony laughed.), and a few floor tiles were cracked ("Easy fixes," Pepper had muttered.), but, other than that, no harm had been done.

"Good game, guys," Stark laughed. "Next time, we'll try to go a bit longer before Bruce Hulks out."

The next week, Tony spent a good portion of his time converting a conference floor into a Hulk-proof games room. Complete with ping pong tables and two gold-encased balls on a plaque that read, "Balls to the walls!"

* * *

**A/N:** So, just to let you guys know, I had my friend Meaghan upload this one for me! I would have asked her to upload all the others, but it would have taken the surprise out of the others when I posted them. Because she doesn't get on dA ever and see them as I post them. *hard glare* ;3


	4. Spider Talks

Hey guys, sorry it's been so long. We went to the lake last weekend. And it was only supposed to be a weekend trip. Guess how long we stayed? A week and a half. I'm so done with my family right now. So, I figured I'd give you a few stories. And I do mean a few. I've written four since I've been gone. And I've got another one in the works now. :3 And I've got to ask: What do you think? I know I have two readers for sure. Can you let me know? Anyway, without further ado...

This is a pairingless story. Just playing into my love of the SuperFamily idea. ;3 And...Sorry it's so short. xD

* * *

**Spider Talks**

"Peter, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Peter Parker looked up from the Iron Man comic he'd been studying (so far, as Tony had predicted, there was very little truth to it). Natasha, Black Widow, stood at the trapdoor that led into and out of his loft room.

"Hey...What? You never-What? Wh-are you sure? You never..." he trailed off gracelessly. The assassin was rarely in the tower, and rarely awake when she was, so he wasn't expecting her to seek him out. At all. "Look, um, Tony and Steve both tried to give me the, ah, talk. Clint and Loki even tried the well thought out, very unhelpful, diagram method. The point is that they were al a bit, ah...a bit late. So, if this is one of those talks-"

"No," Natasha cut him off evenly. "Peter, I just wanted to say, I knew your aunt and uncle very well and-"

"Oh, it's gonna be one of those," he sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. This isn't gonna be incredibly awkward, is it?"

The assassin shook her head and replied quickly, "It's only weird if you make it that way."

"Got it, continue."

"Anyway, I knew Ben and May very well. And I'm sorry for your loss. They were genuinely good people." She paused, pursing her lips. It was a long time before she continued, choosing her words carefully, "Fury's had me in the field a lot lately, but I'm going to try to be in more. If you ever want, or need, to talk-"

The teen cut her off with a smile and pulled the usually stoic woman into a warm hug. "Thank you, Natasha."


	5. The Greenhouse Story

**A/N:** This is story number two! And if you like this one, I'm expanding on it with a companion! That will be posted later as its own story. How exciting! (Not really.) Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

"What's that?" Peter asked Bruce, pointing into the dark. A dim light shone in a far corner, illuminating some of the plants surrounding it.

Dr. Banner looked into the darkness over his glasses and smiled. "Inside the greenhouse area, there was a stone bench across from a tire swing. This was about a year and a half ago, when Tony and Pepper were together."

"The greenhouse was for Pepper, right?"

"Right," Bruce confirmed, glad that the boy remembered things so well. "Pepper set up the swing and had Tony bring in the bench so that she could sit and read. Well, after they broke, Tony took out the tire swing and put up a hanging chair, instead."

"And then he closed it off," Peter supplied, remembering when Natasha had explained that bit to him.

Bruce nodded. "And then he closed it off. We all got in the habit of avoiding it. The greenhouse was a taboo, y'know?"

Peter nodded. It was a normal response, tiptoeing around a subject after a break up. It had been their special place. It held painful memories for Tony.

"A bit before you came to us, maybe a few months, Loki and Thor moved in. Loki was still on watch. Tried taking over the world, we weren't gonna let him have free reign of the tower." Bruce paused and laughed. "He could teleport and we thought we were restricting him. If he wandered, we didn't know about it, though. He followed the rules we'd set for him, and even held back on the things that we didn't specify. Asked me or Tony any time he wanted to visit the R&D floors, only used the kitchens if someone asked him to or gave him permission. Eventually we had no choice but to let him do what he wanted. And he didn't destroy the place."

It was weird to think about, one of the most dangerous supervillains they'd ever encountered turning over a new Lear. But Peter knew it was true. Loki still lived there, in the tower. He was quiet, didn't bother anyone. He even let Peter up into the labs to watch him run tests sometimes.

Bruce kept going, telling the story of the greenhouse. "About three weeks into his explorations, Loki came to me and asked about the boarded up room on this floor."

"The greenhouse," Peter stated.

"Yep, the greenhouse. And I told him, just like I'm telling you. After that, I started watching him. He kept going by the place, looking at the door like it was a puzzle. Eventually, he came to me and asked if I could talk Tony into letting him open it back up."

"And Tony let him?" the teen asked, eyebrows raised.

Bruce nodded, chuckling. "I couldn't believe it, either. But yeah, Tony gave it the okay. So Loki opened it up, with Thor and Steve's help. And everything was overgrown, of course. So he got in there and started trimming things down, taking down notes, it became a project for him. It was a strange time around here. Loki would ask Tony for okay on something, Tony said, 'Yeah, sure, do whatever.' Loki was sending Thor to and from Asgard for plants, small animals...It was odd. About a month later, he announced it was finished and that we could all look of we wanted. He'd completely made it over. It was fantastic. But Tony never came down."

Peter nodded, "Understandable."

"That's what I said," Brice agreed. "So we all went back to our normal routines. And Loki started reading in there. All the time."

He finally took off his glasses and sat down on the sofa beside Peter. Dr. Banner looked tired, and he was. The story was a welcome break from a series of experiments Fury had insisted he run on Steve. Steve's blood, at least.

"It took about a week and a half," Bruce continued, "but Tony started coming by. He would look through the glass doors for a minute, then storm off to destroy something in his lab. He always said he was testing a new function on the repulsors, but most of us knew better."

"Most of you?"

Thor hadn't been around for the immediate after Pepper effects. So he bought it," Bruce explained. "But the rest of us knew he was having a rough time with the Pepper thing. He kept going, though. And he eventually stopped destroying things. I think that's about when he started talking to Loki."

That's when Peter stopped him. "He started talking to Loki?"

"I think so. All I know is that they started spending hours in there together. And that was about the time Fury brought you here."

"That was four months ago, Bruce," Peter breathed.

"Four months," the scientist repeated. "It's been that long already? You already know all the ins and outs of the tower. How didn't you know this story already?"

"Nobody would talk about it," Peter replied. "I asked Clint, he said to ask Steve. Asked Steve, he said to ask Natasha. Asked Natasha, she said to ask Thor. Asked Thor, he said to ask Loki. Asked Loki and he said it wasn't his story to tell. So I came to you."

"Yeah," Bruce sighed. "Around here you just have to ask the right person at the right time. And if you can't find that person, ask me. If I know, I'll tell you."

"Thanks Bruce," the teen said quietly. Then, with more gusto, he pleaded, "Tell me the rest?"

Chuckling again, Bruce continued, "Well, as far as I know, Tony and Loki spend most nights down here. They talk, read, take care of the plants. There's a flock of Asgardian birds that Tony likes to study because they glow like jellyfish. And then some night you'll catch them going up to one of their rooms."

"So they're together?"

"I don't know what their relationship is," Bruce admitted. "They'll bring in other people and won't talk to each other for days. But they always go to that bench and that swing. Every night. Truth be told, I don't think even they know what to call their relationship."

"So they're not together?" Peter asked haltingly.

"I don't know, Peter. We don't know what they do in there, and I won't let Clint and Steve take the security videos."

Grinning, Peter inquired, "They've tried taking the security tapes?"

"Yes, and if you try it, I'll kick you from here to New Zealand," Bruce threatened, also grinning. "It's Tony and Loki's business. Leave it that way, okay?"

"Sure, Bruce."

* * *

Hours later, Spider-Man dangled from a web outside the meeting room waiting for Steve and Clint to emerge. When they finally did, he dropped in front of them.

"Suit up, gentlemen. We have security tapes to steal."


	6. Beauty Salon

**A/N:** Another with no pairing. But! It _is_ another SuperFamily drabble. And some implied Tony/Steve for those who ship that. And...To clear things up: Peter calls Natasha "Mama Tasha" because she's the only female in the place. Not because she's in a threesome with Tony and Steve. xD Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

**Beauty Salon**

"Mama Tasha?"

Natasha looked up from brushing her hair and smiled. She rose from her vanity mirror and moved to the door. The toddler there was quick, but the assassin was quicker. As he reached the middle of the doorframe on his web, Natasha snatched Peter from the air and brought him down in a giggling, kicking mess.

She laughed as she tickled him, his peals of laughter blending with her own. Once she'd had her fill, she pinned him to the bed and laughed, "What's up, Peter?"

"Can we play dress up?" the toddler squealed, trying to wiggle from under her as only the spider child could.

"Play dress up? With what?" she asked, feigning surprise.

"With Daddy's suits, silly!" the child giggled loudly.

"Daddy's suits?" She paused and sat up, pulling the still-squirming toddler into her lap. "Which suits, Peter?"

"The shiny ones!"

"The shiny ones? You mean Daddy Tony's Iron Man suit?"

"Yeah!" the child screamed with glee. "And Daddy Steve's suit, too!"

"And Daddy Steve's suit, too?" she exclaimed.

"Yeah!"

The assassin sat for a moment, considering the child's request. Steve and Tony would probably kill her if they walked in and found her in the Iron Man suit and little Peter slinging around Captain America's shield.

A clap of thunder and a crash above their heads sent Peter squealing into Natasha's arms. And set Natasha thinking.

"Peter," she said, stroking his dark hair, "why don't we play beauty salon with Uncle Thor and Uncle Loki instead?"

The toddler looked up at her and smiled, his round face lighting up with glee. "Beauty salon?"

* * *

"Shh. Be really quiet. Okay, Peter?"

The toddler nodded, grin almost shining in the low light of the rafters. Natasha pointed down to the lobby of the building where Thor and Loki stood greeting Clint and Bruce.

"You've gotta hit them both at once, okay?" she guided.

Peter nodded, aiming as carefully as he could at the gods below. He fired off the two biggest webs he could and the Asgardians collapsed, trapped. Giggling like mad, the child lowered himself down into the confusion on a web.

Natasha followed quickly, grinning almost as wide as Peter.

"Evening, Clint. Dr. Banner."

"Agent Romanoff," Bruce replied, smirking. "Is there a secret mission going on that we weren't told about?"

"Of course," she decreed. "Phase one, locate and detain Uncle Thor and Uncle Loki complete. Phase two commence."

"What's phase two?" Clint inquired.

"Beauty salon!" Peter shrieked, throwing up his chubby arms.

* * *

Tony and Steve entered the lounge tired and sore from sitting in meetings all day. The elevator opened to peals of laughter, and it was all Tony could do not to sigh in frustration. A headache was forming just behind his eyes and he hadn't had a drink in over three hours. The scene that opened up in front of him almost made him forget all of that, though.

Thor and Loki were tied up in webs in front of one of the black leather sofas in the lounge. Natasha and Peter sat behind them, both with fistfuls of hair. Braids framed both sides of the gods' faces. In a chair to the left sat Bruce, a braid sticking out from the side of his head. On his right sat Clint, whose hair was luckily too short to have been attacked. Everyone but Loki smiled and laughed.

"What's going on here?" Steve asked, a smile forming on his own lips.

"Daddy!" Peter cried, jumping up.

Thor, whose hair was still in the child's hands, cried out. And, finally, Loki's grim visage split into a wide grin.

Tony stood with his arms folded over his chest, grinning. "I'm in agreement with Steve. What's up, guys?"

Natasha looked up, smile never having left her face.

"Beauty salon."


	7. Somebody

**A/N: **I cannot begin to tell anyone who will listen how completely proud I am of this story. It's based on _Somebody_ by Reba McEntire, which I listened to non-stop while writing this. (Which, for anyone interested, was three and a half hours straight.) I feel like it turned out really well, and I hope you guys think so, too!

* * *

Bruce was a nuclear physics major working three jobs to pay his way through college. His days always began at the Shield Diner on Broadway, waiting tables from 4:30 to 10:30. He'd have classes until 3:30, then would go Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 5 til close at an auto body repair shop and Tuesdays and Thursdays from 6 until midnight at the local bowling alley. The mechanic gig paid the most, but his favorite was the diner.

Every morning brought the same people, the same orders, and a warm sense of familiarity. He would talk sports with two mechanics who always came in before their shifts at the shop. He would sit for his half-hour break and listen to war stories from an army veteran named Bucky. Then, every morning at 7:15, a businessman in a sharp suit with motor oil staining his rough hands comes in. He always sits at the table in the far corner of the diner and orders a black coffee and whatever cereal they've got that particular morning.

The man held an interest in Bruce's studies, saying that his company was starting up research in the field. They would chat amiably about the work Bruce did at the body shop and how exactly the ball returns worked at the bowling alley.

The man was very young to own a company. And when Bruce asked one day, he found that the man's father had left it to him when he'd passed away. He never asked about the man's family again though, because the man left for about a week before he came back again.

The morning in particular that stands out to Bruce, when looking back on it, is the morning that the man ordered his coffee and a plate of eggs instead of his cereal. When Bruce brings his eggs and refills the coffee, the man laughs bitterly, pushing back is dark hair and asks quietly, "What's the point of it all?"

Bruce looks up, startled, and replies hesitantly, "Sir?"

"My girlfriend dumped me two and a half months ago," the man sighed, and Bruce notes with pointed guilt that that time matches up with the man's week-long disappearance. He goes on to explain, "I've been trying to get back into it, y'know? Back into the bar scene, meeting people. Nobody. I might as well give up."

Bruce pulls up a chair across from the man and gives him a look full of sympathy and understanding. "I've been there before. But, man, you've only been at it two months. Keep looking. The one you're looking for is right where you least expect them. And out there, somewhere, they're looking for you, too."

The man shakes Bruce's hand and smiles a sad, knowing smile. He leaves twice his usual tip and thanks Bruce as he leaves for work.

* * *

Tony distractedly pushes the button for his top floor office, unable to get the waiter's words out of his mind. For some reason, the boy's words struck a chord with him. He leans heavily against the railing and notices a young woman leaning against the railing directly across from him.

Her ear blue eyes are turned to the floor and her dark red curls fall around her porcelain face like silk. He's fairly sure her name is Natalie. Though it could have been something else, considering he was fairly sure she was Russian. Maybe it was Natasha.

As if sensing his eyes on her, she lifts her own and flashes him a tight smile. Could that be it? What the waiter had meant about finding her?

* * *

A week later the man returns to the diner, haggard, in jeans and a Black Sabbath shirt. He was late, walking in around eight instead of 7:15. His usually well-grokked beard had grown to a mess of stubble and his usually smiling brown eyes were dark and tired.

Bruce took him his coffee and brought out a bowl of Frosted Flakes. He smiled as the tired-looking man looked up at him.

"Rough week, sir?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

The man's eyes widened and he broke into a wide grin that floored Bruce's stomach.

"I'm Tony. Tony Stark. And I'd like to take you out to dinner. How does Thursday after your bowling shift sound?"

Bruce's smile gave way to and ear-to-ear grin.

"I'm Bruce, by the way. And I'd love to have dinner with you Thursday night.

"Well, Bruce," Tony replied with a wide grin, "You really should wear a name tag.

* * *

That Friday morning, when they saw Bruce sleeping in a booth and Tony happily filling his shift, the two mechanics and Bucky gave the two a standing ovation.


	8. Clintasha

_**In a Darkened** **Room**_

* * *

"Where did you get all of these scars?"

It was a popular question, one asked by many of the men she'd bedded for the sake of one mission or another. She'd even grown accustomed to hearing it, finally spinning a story involving rowdy siblings and pets she'd never possessed. It was all part of the lie, part of the play to win their trust. To get them to believe that Natalie Rushman, or whatever alias she used, was a real person with a real past.

It was a question she'd never expected from Clint Barton. Clint, who knew her true past, understood her job, had experienced the dangers of their line of work. Clint, who never failed to surprise her. And, as he ran a finger lazily from her neck to the exposed small of her back, that's exactly what he'd done.

She turned her head, resting it on her arm rather than lying face-down on the pillow, and stared at him questioningly. He was lying on his side facing her, propped up on one elbow while his other hand trailed along her pale skin. She knew what he saw there, etched into the flesh of her back and shoulders. And she wasn't proud of the truth she owed him.

"Where do you want me to start?" she asked quietly. It was barely a whisper, but the Hawk never missed anything. He'd heard her.

"Here," he replied, running his index finger along a raised line that ran the length of her spine.

So Natasha Romanoff began her story, sighing heavily through the stories of treachery that always ended in a fresh scar. Somewhere along the way, she found him tracing the imperfections with his lips rather than his hand. When he reached a series of long scratches from a drug lord's pet panther, she even found herself smiling as he tenderly missed down the length of each of the five jagged white lines.

The hardest stories to tell we're the ones of self-infliction. And when she'd finished the story of a particularly nasty one that looked, to the untrained eye, like a scarred over stretch mark, he stopped her and sat up. He pulled her into his arms, holding her to him like she knew he would a child.

"Stop now," he crooned in her ear, sensing the growing lump in her throat. Stroking her hair in a way that he could only hope was consoling, he continued, "Nat, I want to learn every inch of you. To memorize every freckle and scar. I want to know so that I can know when there's a new one. I want to be able to help you, so that nothing like this" he traced the stretch mark scar "ever happens again."

He gently pushed her away, cupping her face instead. Directing her as softly as he could to look up at him, Clint locked eyes with Natasha and smiled. "I love you, Nat. And the thought of you doing this to yourself, for any reason, absolutely kills me."

And as he gently pulled her lips to his, Natasha felt herself slowly come undone. There, in the darkened room in Stark Tower that had become theirs, in Clint's strong arms, she finally let the years of pain and guilt flow from her. He held her until she awoke the next morning, eyes swollen and red but smiling. Smiling because, for the first time in her life, Natasha felt loved.

* * *

**A/N:** I didn't want to say this at the beginning because...Well, spoilers. So, I'm going to say it here. This story is based off of a conversation that I had with my boyfriend nearly a year ago. I told him, truthfully, that I used to cut myself. Not because I was depressed or wanting attention, but because I liked it. I liked the way the blade stung my palms. And he told me, almost word for word, what Clint tells Natasha here. So this chapter is for him, if he ever gets to read it. I promised him that I wouldn't pick up a knife like that again. And I haven't. That's a promise I'll never break.

Anyway, I hope you don't mind me interrupting your regularly scheduled gay fanfiction with some het love. I so thoroughly enjoy these two together.


	9. Sharon and Peter

_**Sharon and** **Peter**_

* * *

"Everyone'd thought she'd died right along with him. Night after night, she stayed with the river. Howard Stark was the only soul she'd let near her. He watched over her night and day." Sharon paused, as if deep in thought, then added, "Y'know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps beating just the same."

Peter tilted his head with childish curiosity. "Where are you from, Miss Sharon?"

Smiling at the child with bright blue eyes, she replied, "I'm from Virginia. My Aunt Peggy was, too. But she moved to Europe with her job during the war. Where are you from, Peter?"

The boy grinned, wide brown eyes lighting up. "I'm from Queens!" he announced proudly.

"You're from Queens?" Sharon asked with the feigned excitement that one speaks to a small child with. Her smile was bright as she lifted him to sit on her knees. "ThatMs an awfully big area for a little guy like you. Is that why Daddy Tony brought you out here to his house?"

"No, ma'am. Mr. Fury brought me here to live after my aunt and uncle went away. He said they went up north and couldn't come back." The child's eyes fell as he finished his tale. Then, remembering what Sharon had said, his head popped back up, frowning in indignation. "I'm not a little guy! Mama Tasha's teaching me how to fight. And Uncle Clint gave me one of his knives so that I'd be safe. Daddy Tony's even making me a suit like his so that I can fight with them!"

"Is he, now? That's mighty sweet of him."

Both woman and child looked up, wide-eyed, as Steve Rogers entered the room. At his bewildered expression, both Sharon and Peter grinned from ear to ear.

"Evening, Captain," Sharon grinned.

Peter mimicked, "Evenin', Cap'n!"

"My two favorite people!" Steve laughed, scooping up the toddler from his friend's lap. Then, squealing child in one arm, he scooped Sharon up as well and planted a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Thank you for watching him, Sharon. We owe you one."

"You owe me more than one, Steve Rogers," the woman laughed, poking an accusing finger into his chest. "But a dinner date with you and Mister Stark would settle your debts just fine."

"With both of us? That's a bit ambitious of you," Steve chuckled. He sat down the toddler, who scuttled off into the next room. "Dis you tell him about Peggy?"

"He's too young, Steve," Sharon sighed. "He doesn't understand. But he will in time. Just be patient."

"I worry about him, Sharon, that's all. He doesn't know what happened to his aunt and uncle and I don't want someone like Loki to be the one to tell him."

"Then maybe you and the other guys need to sit down and talk to him," she suggested in barely a whisper. "Have Thor tell him about Valhalla or something. But let it be someone he knows."

Steve let out a heavy sigh and nodded. "I know. Thanks anyway, Sharon. I'll let you know about that dinner date."

"Any time, Cap," Sharon assured him, smiling. She watched as the spider child caught hold of the super soldier's hand and led him from her apartment. With the erratic schedule the Avengers kept, she didn't hold out much hope for dinner.

* * *

**A/N: **The quote at the very beginning is from _Fried Green Tomatoes, _in case anyone caught that. And this apparently came about while I watched it. Such a good movie...Anyway, I couldn't figure out a way to use it unless I did it with Sharon. So...Sharon Carter, Peter Parker, and Stevw Rogers, everyone!


End file.
